


Another Hargrove

by FlyingFairies



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove has a bio sister, Child Abuse, Maxine "Max" Mayfield Needs a Hug, Protective Billy Hargrove, max mayfield - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingFairies/pseuds/FlyingFairies
Summary: Hawkins, Indiana, was not the ideal location for Connie Hargrove. In a small town, there was no escape from her hot-tempered brother, her authoritarian father, doormat of a step-mom and perpetually irritating step-sister. Missing San Diego and finding Hawkins the worst place to be, things can only go downhill when Max involves herself with the lamest people she's ever met.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

### Saturday, October 27th 1984

Constance Hargrove, although she went by Connie, could practically feel the tension clawing at her skin. Her dad’s face was bright red, brow knitted tightly together and hands gripped furiously on the steering wheel. Susan trembled beside him, staring straight forward. On her left side was her step-sister, emphasis on _step_ , Max Mayfield. Her feet rested on her skateboard, moving it slightly from side-to-side and nudging it repeatedly into Connie’s foot. Connie glanced at her, trying to keep the overwhelming resentment off her face, and silently thanked God that Max didn’t turn to face her. 

It was all Max’s fault. She was the very reason they were stuffed in the car driving to Hawkins, Indiana. Her and that stupid mouth of hers. She was the reason everyone was angry too. Her mouth, once again. Dad had talked about how exciting it was to be moving somewhere new, and when Dad talked you agreed, except Max didn’t and a shouting match ensued so loudly Connie was sure people in other cars could hear them. For a moment, Connie lent against the window and felt tears prick in her eyes, until she caught sight of her dad in the rear-view mirror and promptly sat up, pretending everything was fine. 

Maybe it would all be fine. Connie was popular in California, far more popular than Max ever was, so hopefully she’d find some friends quickly. Another good thing, she wasn’t in the same grade as Max - with Max’s birthday in August of 1971, and Connie’s in March 1972, it was a close call. She was smart too, so at least grades weren’t something to worry about. Her real brother Billy wasn’t particularly intelligent, but he was strong and fit and that’s all that really mattered to him. Max wasn’t thick either, although she apparently wasn’t smart enough to keep her mouth shut, because she’d just engaged in another shouting match. 

“You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my dad!” She screamed, her face matching her hair. It was a point she’d probably made a thousand times that day alone. 

“Where’s your dad now? I doubt he’s providing you with food and a home and a loving family, is he?” Dad raged back, veins popping out of his hands. 

“He would if you hadn’t stolen me away from California!” Retorted Max, “It’s all your fault, driving us to this shithole! And you’re hardly a loving parent, more an unstable alcoholic who can’t even look after his own kids!” 

“Shut up Max!” Connie yelled, feeling her blood boil under her skin. Talking wasn’t the clever thing to do, yet alone shouting, but if Max thinks she can insult her family, she’s got another thing coming. The whole car was silent, almost still, as they awaited Dad’s reaction. 

“Let’s pull over, yeah, get us all a drink and something to eat.” He said, faking a calm smile. Connie nodded, and Max did too. Susan was motionless, like always, and Dad switched on his indicator as soon as he saw the next gas station, and the blue Camaro behind them did the same. 

As soon as they were out, Max was riding her skateboard around a bit of tarmac and Billy stood next to Connie, wrapping his arm around her protectively. 

“How's it going?” He asked, tightening as the wind blew colder. 

“Dad and Max, constantly.” She responded, “Then she called him an unstable alcoholic.” 

“Did he blow up?” Billy questioned and Connie shook her head, 

“I yelled at her, and then Dad suggested we stop.” 

“You yelled?” Billy asked surprised, raising an eyebrow, “You, Connie Hargrove, yelled at Pouty Princess Maxine?” Pouty Princess Maxine, or PPM, was their nickname for Max. It was accurate, Connie thought, she was spoiled enough to be a princess and she frowned constantly. Plus, the name Maxine really irked her. Connie nodded, turning her eyes back to Max and her skating. She was good, which was annoying.

“Kids, come on!” Dad called happily, uncomfortably happily, as he placed a tray onto the picnic table. It sounded normal, which meant that something was off. Dad tried to be nice, Connie was sure of it, but he could snap at any minute. “Our very first family meal in Indiana.” He laughed, holding up a fry, “Cheers.” They all mirrored what he did, then quietly ate the meal. Dad and Susan sat on one side of the table, with Billy, Connie and Max on the other, in that order. Once he’d finished eating, Billy placed a hand protectively on Connie’s leg, as if Max was going to attack her at any second. Connie wasn’t that hungry, despite not having eaten since breakfast that morning, and she noticed Max eagerly eyeing up her leftover fries. 

“You can have them.” She said, even smiling slightly. Max glanced at her uncertainty, moving them to her own paper plate before Connie could change her mind. Dad grinned from across the table, 

“See, I knew you’d make up. Sisters can never be mad at each other for long.” In her head, Connie corrected him and wondered if Max did the same, but outwardly they both smiled politely. 

While Dad checked something on the car and Billy returned to his own, Connie watched Max skate some more. 

“D’you wanna go?” She said, almost shyly, offering the board to Connie. 

“I don’t know how.” Responded Connie, incredibly confused. Never, in all the time she’d known Max - which wasn’t actually that long, but that’s not the point - had she ever let Connie as much as touch her board. 

“I’ll teach you.” Max said, her voice shockingly amicable. She lay the board gently on the ground and held both of Connie’s hands as she stepped on. Connie gripped them tighter and Max smiled, “Good, now keep your weight centered and I’ll push you a little.” 

“Not too hard.” Connie whispered, feeling far more than two inches off the ground. 

“Not too hard.” Max repeated. She was true to her word, gently maneuvering Connie with careful steps. Glancing up at her, Connie couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Not a full grin, but an acceptance that maybe Max wasn’t bad all the time. 

Eventually, they were ready to leave for the last stretch before arriving in Hawkins. Billy invited Connie into his car, and she accepted, sitting in the passenger seat with her elbow resting on the side. 

“You excited kid?” He asked, smiling at her. 

“I liked California.” She replied, “And I don’t think there’s actually anything in Hawkins.” 

“There’s a school, a decent school.” Billy said, trying to lift the mood, “You’ll be able to learn properly. Then go to college and make something of yourself.” He said it with such confidence that Connie nearly believed him. She knew he hated the very idea of moving to Hawkins, and that he was just putting on a show for Connie, but she tried to pretend it was real; that they were all excited for their new home. 

After miles and miles of forest and small towns, they passed the sign for Hawkins, Indiana. Connie and Billy both tensed as they drove, this was it. A few streets later, they reached a house with a sold sign planted in the yard and a moving van parked out front. 

“You alright?” Connie asked, looking back from the house to Billy. 

“‘Course I am.” He replied nonchalantly, “Don’t worry about me kid.” 

“You give me a lot to worry about.” Connie quipped back. 

“Hey, watch that lip.” Billy warned. He wasn’t being mean, just sensible, and Connie nodded to him. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You gotta be smart, yeah?” He asked rhetorically, “Now, we play happy families.” 

They both climbed out the car, Billy giving off a far more confident air than Connie, who glanced uncertainty around at everything. The house wasn’t awful, one-storey with windows across the porch and trees around it. Connie grabbed her backpack out of the car, swinging it carelessly over her shoulder in a way that made her feel painfully like Billy, and began to follow Susan and Dad up the path. 

Billy followed behind her and she slowed down to walk beside him. Max was behind them, probably, Connie always found it was easier if she didn’t concern herself with Max’s location. As Dad unlocked the door, Connie unconsciously took Billy’s hand, holding it for a brief moment before pulling away, trembling. 

“Hey, kid, it’s okay.” He said, taking it back again. She glanced up and smiled at him as Dad jangled the keys in the lock, with the door eventually creaking open. Connie felt Billy tense slightly, although he tried to hide it. 

Walking into the house, Connie was hit with a musty smell that filled her nose and she forced the coughs back down her throat. Neither Billy nor Max did the same, both spluttering and earning glares from Dad. Realising that everyone was seconds away from an argument, Connie tried to lighten the mood, 

“Which bedroom’s who’s?” She asked, moving her backpack to her hand. It was a three-bedroomed house, she knew that before, and it had already been firmly established that she would share a room with Max, something neither of them were thrilled about. Dad returned from his quick look around the house, then pointed to a room at the back and on the left, 

“That’ll be yours and Maxine’s.” He said, smiling, Max and Connie exchanged a look of dread which he immediately noticed, “I used to share a room with my brother when I was your age, you’ll love it.” That was a command, not a suggestion or passing comment. Connie faked a smile and walked into the room, dumping her bag beside the door. Max followed her, then groaned, 

“You have got to be kidding me.” 

There was one full bed stood against, presumably for them to share. Connie had shared beds with her friends on sleepovers, sometimes she’d even climbed into Billy’s bed at night - although she’d never admit to it. But _Max_. Obnoxious, irritating, boyish Max. 

“I want the side by the door.” Connie announced, meaning Max immediately dumped her stuff there. Good, she actually wanted the side by the window. 

“How long d’you reckon it’ll take before we get separate beds?” Max asked, 

“When you stop pissing Dad off.”

“He’s not my dad.” Grunted Max in reply, looking around the room, “That’s your side, by the way.” She declared, pointing an imaginary line down the room. “Stay on it.”

“Don’t be a dick, Maxine.” Connie replied sharply, dodging past Max’s swing for her. One step later, Max had grabbed the top of her arm tightly in her fist, nails digging through Connie’s sweater. With blue eyes glaring into brown, Max let go and shoved her across the room, 

“Stay on it.” She uttered again, turning on her heel and stalking out the room. Connie swore under her breath, shifting her bag to the left side of the bed - or the right side if you were lying down - and following her intensely annoying step-sister out of the room. 


	2. Chapter 2

###  Sunday, October 28th 1984

Connie woke up with Max’s arm draped over chest, almost hugging her, and both of them planted firmly on her side of the bed. She didn’t say anything, knowing Max would be incredibly irritable if woken up, but carefully moved her arm and slipped out of bed. Light was starting to trickle in through the window, past the fraying blinds, so she could see what she was doing as she fumbled through the boxes for her clothes. Quickly, she realised that she would have to dress in front of the sleeping Max and just pray she didn’t wake up. In their old house, in California, she’d had her own room - which was basically a glorified closet with a sofa bed. It wasn’t a particularly nice room, although nothing about the house in San Diego was particularly nice. Maybe the worst part about that house was that it wasn’t hers. Max lived there with her mom long before they moved in; while Dad and Billy settled in like it was nothing, Connie just wasn’t that  _ dominant _ . 

When she was little, she was. It was about a year after her mom left, so she must have been around six. She had a bedroom, pink and white like something out of a book, and it was her bedroom. One day, Billy decided that he needed to go in there and Connie decided that that wasn’t going to happen so she wedged a folded blanket underneath to stop it opening and pushed against it. Billy pounded and pounded on the door, shouting at the top of his voice. Even at eleven, he was scary and loud, so loud, and eventually he forced open the door. His curled fist landed sharply onto Connie’s pale cheek, splitting the skin so blood trickled down her face like a scarlet tear. Since then, she didn’t disobey Billy. 

Glancing in the mirror, she ran her hand over the faint scar from that day then pulled the front of her blonde hair back and tied it with a light blue scrunchie. Her jeans didn’t fit properly, they were Max’s old ones with rips across the knee and stains around the cuffs, but they’d do. Her sweatshirt was nicer, dark blue and bought for 50 cents off a garage sale. She forced a smile to her reflection then moved quietly to the kitchen. Most things were still in boxes, but Dad had gone to the store last night so juice, milk and cereal were all laid out on the table where he sat. 

“Good morning darling.” He said, intensely cheery, “You’re up early.” Connie was nearly always up at this time, since generally no one else was, but she didn’t ever make that known to her Dad. 

“Do you know where the boxes of my stuff are?” Connie asked, pouring herself a cup of orange juice.

“In the living room, I think.” He said, sipping his coffee, “But wait until the furniture’s set up properly before you start unpacking.” 

“Yes sir.” Connie replied, pouring herself some cereal then began to eat quietly. Her dad read yesterday’s newspaper and her eyes skimmed the front cover, which mainly talked about Russia and Reagan, although a small headline in the corner caught her eye. “Who’s Kathy Sullivan?” She asked innocently. 

“You got a lot of questions this morning.” Dad laughed, not answering. A few moments later, the phone rang and he stood up, passing the paper to Connie, “Have a look yourself.” He said. Flicking through it, she found the page and began to read. Turns out, Kathy Sullivan was the first American woman to walk in space, and Connie narrated this to her dad as he sat down. 

“That must be cool, don’t you think, to walk in space?” She said, passing the paper back as he frowned, 

“I don’t think it’s really right for a woman though.” He responded firmly, “Too emotional.” 

If Connie wasn’t scared of her dad, she might have laughed at the pure irony of what he was saying. Him and Billy shouted everytime something irritated them, whereas Connie continuously controlled her emotions to the point where it was nearly painful.

After some more stilted conversation and Connie flicking through Susan’s Vogue from last month, the rest of the family began to trickle into the kitchen. Susan first, kissing Dad on the cheek and smiling at Connie. For a second, Connie let herself believe that Susan was her kind mother, Dad was her funny father, she was their youngest child, perpetually doted over, and that they all lived a happy, calm life. 

That fantasy in her head was broken by Max storming into the kitchen with a frown fixed on her face. She sat next to Connie, purposely kicking her legs with her green vans. Connie glared at her, then rammed her heel sharply into Max’s shin, making her yelp in pain. 

“Constance.” Dad scolded, “Stop that.”

“Yes sir.” She replied, glancing down at the table. From the corner of her eye, she could see Max smirk slightly, and felt an overwhelming urge to kick her again. Unfortunately, that managed to take over and she swung her foot hard, the corner of her training digging straight into Max’s jeans. Max grunted through gritted teeth and Connie could see her father’s face boil red. 

“Get up!” He shouted, “Get up!” Connie obeyed, scowling up at him with defiance in her eyes. “Wipe that look right off your face, young lady, or I’ll slap it out. Do you understand?” 

“Yes sir.” Connie muttered, feeling her teeth tremble. This was nothing new, of course, anyone who’d lived with him for more than a week knew that, but it still scared her. 

“Say it properly!” He yelled, his face dangerously close to hers and his hands gripping tightly on her shoulder. He shook her, launching her backwards into the incoming Billy, who caught her with two firm hands. 

Before she knew it, she was shoved into the kitchen wall and Billy’s fists began to fly at their dad. Max’s attention was glued to the back of the cereal box, red hair covering her face, and Susan stared uncomfortably at the floor. After her dad had finished with Billy, making him fall to the cold ground, he approached Connie. With a swift and decisive hand, he removed his belt and twisted Connie so her back faced him. In three sharp strokes, he cut through the air and onto her back. Connie felt tears prick in her eyes, but she bit down on her lip and forced them away, knowing it would only make things worse. Still, she kept her head facing the ground, 

“Look at me.” Her father commanded. “Look at me.” Connie dragged her face up, eyes meeting with his. “Apologise to Maxine.” She did as he said, quickly and completely devoid of any emotion. Max had guilt all over her face, as she should. It was all her fault anyway. 

Once Dad had left the kitchen, Susan began to tidy up as Billy started to eat. Connie cleaned her face quickly in the sink, splashing off the sweat and dried tears around her eyes. It didn’t take long for Max to leave, clearly realising that her presence wasn’t wanted, and Susan left shortly after. With the two of them alone, Billy cautiously raised Connie’s sweater to reveal her lower back, 

“Does it hurt?” He asked, dabbing it with a damp cloth that made Connie shiver.

“Not anymore than usual.” 

“What d’you do?” 

“Kicked Max.” She replied quietly. 

“Little shit.” He muttered under his breath, “Sorry you’re stuck in a room with her.” 

“She’s not awful all the time.” Connie explained, “Just stupid.”

“You’re right there.” 

“At least she’s Californian.” Laughed Connie, making Billy laugh too. He lowered her sweater and span her round to face him, 

“Keep your head straight.” He said seriously, “You’re just a kid, alright? Fighting with Dad is never going to end well for you.”

“Doesn’t end well for you either.” Connie pointed out and Billy grasped her fist so tight it felt like her hand was about to fall off, “Sorry.” He threw her hand back so it thumped against the countertop, splitting the skin, and left her alone. 

Connie washed the blood off, hoping her hand would stop bleeding, and slipped quietly back into the bedroom. Barely looking up, Max grunted a mild acknowledgement as she entered. She’d started cleaning the bookshelf that was built in on her side of the bed, although apparently abandoned that in favour of putting together the dresser. Silently, Connie finished wiping down the bookshelf. When she turned to get the box of books, Max was standing directly behind her, making her jump.

“Sorry.” Max muttered, then looked at Connie’s hand, still stained with dried blood, “I’ll get some warm water.” She left before Connie could say anything, neither of them even trying to make eye-contact. That would make it all worse. Max’s blue eyes would be full of guilt and concern and care, things Connie was far from used to. And in her own eyes, there would only be anger. She didn’t want to be angry, she tried so hard to repress that part of her, but she could feel it creeping under her skin and running through like a monster with it’s own mind. 

She let Max clean her hand, flinching as she first touched her. As Max ran the cloth across the cut, she winced. 

“Hey, it’s alright.” Max said softly. Her red hair completely shielded her face from view, falling messily like it always did. Connie didn’t understand why Max never tried with her appearance, especially since she was actually quite pretty. 

“Can I do your hair?” She asked, glancing up.

“No.” Max replied firmly. 

“Come on, I could braid it, it’d look really nice.” Connie pleaded, making a face at Max who shook her head. 

“I said no.” 

“Please-” Connie began, but the look on Max’s face stopped her, “Sorry.”

“Look, the only reason I’m not getting mad at you is because you’ve already got it shitty enough, okay?”

“You can be angry, it’s fine.” Connie said, making Max sigh. 

“It’s not ‘fine’ Connie. None of the shit we put up with is ‘fine’.” 

“That’s why you tried to go to your dad’s?” 

“Yeah.” Max replied, glancing away. Connie noticed the guilt swell in her eyes, “I wasn’t trying to leave you or anything.”

“I know. Don’t worry, it’s not like we're even proper family.” That didn’t seem to satisfy Max, but it shut her up and Connie continued to put Max’s books on the shelf. 

“Put some of yours on there too.” Max instructed, apparently disregarding the ‘sides of the room’ rule. Connie did what she said, lining up her own books beside Max’s, as Max watched her, “Wow, you do read some nerdy stuff, don’t you?” Max tugged her copy of Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science off the shelf and flipped it open, “Look how small the words are!” 

“Just because you read picture books-”

“-Comic books.” Interrupted Max. 

“Either way, doesn’t mean we’re all stupid.” Connie sat on the bed and rolled herself over to the other side, “Some of us read things with big girl words.” Moving to the other side of the room was a bright idea, since Max scowled at her and aimed the book at her head before deciding against it. 

Connie cleaned the room some more, with Max assembling the dresser. It was old, slightly dented in the side and the green paint had cracked across the top. There was a stain where Max had spilt water on her comics, making the ink run into the wood. Max looked at it with a frown on her face, 

“Will it fit everything?” She asked, opening the drawer and sticking her hand inside, “I suppose we have the wardrobe too.”

“You can take more of the drawers, if you’d like.” Connie said, surprising herself with her generosity. “I don’t think you have the patience to hang up clothes.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Questioned Max, frowning. 

“That you’re impatient. Which you are.” Connie replied simply.

“Are you always such a smartass?” Teased Max, throwing a pillow at Connie, but grinning. Connie threw one back, landing it directly on Max’s face, making her squeal. They went back and forth for a few minutes, kneeling on the bed and laughing until Max collapsed backwards onto the mattress, catching her breath. Connie lowered her pillow, smiling, and the door opened slightly. They both tensed as Dad walked in, but he just laughed, 

“See, I told you you’d love it.” He said in his sing-song, almost fake, voice. Connie nodded, and he continued, “My two girls, you’ll be best friends in no time.” He left as quickly as he entered, but the mood didn’t return and Connie noticed Max’s eyes dart down to the bright red mark on her hand. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

###  Monday, October 29th 1984 

If she was honest, Connie would have preferred to have gone to school. Instead, her and Max were packed into the car with Billy and instructed to get themselves new clothes and things for school, since not all of their stuff came with them to Hawkins. It was nearly an hour drive to the mall, which Connie spent most of staring out the window and trying to ignore the arguing between Max and Billy. 

“You’re staying with me, understand? I’m not having you wander off and get lost!” Billy shouted, his voice rough and hoarse. 

“I’m perfectly capable of going on my own, I’m hardly a baby.” Max snapped back, red hair flying as she turned to face Billy, “I don’t get why I can’t.”

“Because my dad said so.”

“Your dad isn’t going to find out.”

“He will if something happens.”

“Nothings going to happen, this is Indiana for Christ’s sake!” Interrupted Max. 

“Well I’m not going to take that risk, alright!” Yelled Billy, “So either you keep being a fucking brat about it, or you shut up and behave!” Max leaned back in her seat, sighing heavily, 

“Because you’re so quiet and perfect.” She muttered. Connie couldn’t see her eyes, but she presumed she was rolling them.

“Shut the fuck up, Maxine Mayfield, shut the fuck up.” Billy said slowly, in the voice Connie knew was a warning. 

“Don’t call me that.” Grunted Max.

“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want.” Replied Billy with a cold tone to his voice. Max turned and glared at him, but didn’t say anything and sunk back into her seat as Connie let out a small sigh of relief. 

At the mall, Billy marched them into a department store and watched over like a hawk as they walked around. Max’s face held a scowl until Connie suggested they go into the skate store she’d seen as they walked in, cheering up Max considerably. 

“Good one.” Billy whispered to her as Max walked a few steps ahead of them, “I can’t ever seem to deal with her.” Maybe he was asking for advice, but Connie didn’t think now was the time to delve into his brother skills and just nodded slightly. It wasn’t actually that hard to please Max, although it wasn’t hard to piss her off either. Still, it was no surprise Billy couldn’t do it, since Billy was probably the most fucked up person she knew. 

One day, when Connie was at college and taking a psych class, she’d learn exactly what was going on with Billy and realise that half of the problems applied to her too. But in that Indidan mall, in 1984, she could barely point out where it all stemmed from.

After they’d all found some clothes, they went to the skate store; where Connie and Billy stood, incredibly bored, behind Max as she deliberated over new wheels. 

“Get the pink ones.” Said Connie once a few minutes had passed. Max turned to look at them both, 

“You can go on, I’ll be fine here.” 

“Not a chance.” Billy replied firmly. “Can you please hurry up though?” 

“I need to check I’ve got the right ones.” She snapped, then listed a bunch of terms Connie had never heard of, but apparently needed to be correct. With Max still looking at them, Connie wandered around the store - which was small enough for her to remain wholly within Billy’s sight. There wasn’t much that interested her, just lots of brightly decorated boards and logoed t-shirts, but it kept her occupied until Max made her decision and they left the store with her holding some pink wheels. 

“They were the best ones.” She defended as Connie raised an eyebrow.

“Sure they were.” Teased Connie in reply, grinning cheekily. Billy knocked her arm, half playfully, half as a pertinent warning to shut it before things go south. She did as he said, not saying anything offensive as they made their way around more shops and back to the car. 

As they pulled up Old Cherry Road, Connie was the first to point out the lack of a car in their driveway, 

“Where’s Dad and Susan?” She asked, frowning. 

“Probably out somewhere, getting things for the house.” Billy grunted, clearly it didn’t bother him. The door to the house was unlocked, but as Max called for her mom, no one came.

“That’s weird.” She said, edging slightly closer to Connie as if she was scared, “Why was the door unlocked?”

“Something hasn’t…” Connie could barely finish her sentence, “Something hasn’t happened, right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Said Billy, “They probably just forgot to lock it.”

“Dad never forgets.”

“Well he did this time.” Billy snapped with an edge to his voice, making Connie jump, shifting her so she touched Max’s arm. 

“Max, can you ask the neighbours if they saw anything?” Said Connie, trying to have authority in her voice. 

“Are you giving the orders around here?” Billy asked in a mocking tone. He always got angry when he was nervous, Connie knew that, but it still scared her more than she liked to admit. 

“No Billy.” 

“Good, now both of you just go to your room and wait until they get back.” Connie noticed Max give him an unconvinced look, “Now, everything’s fine, alright?” His last word was aggressive enough that Connie took a step back, straight into Max, and the two of them both darted through the house. 

Sitting in silence, Connie flicked through a book without even reading while Max changed the wheels on her skateboard. The room was filled with the unbearable tension that you can barely even find words for, like every slight movement made a gigantic sound or like the air was so thick you could barely breathe. They both waited for a sound, for a car to pull up outside or for Billy to call their names, but as the sky darkened nothing happened. 

Eventually, Connie heard Max’s stomach rumble and she stood up. 

“Come on, let’s get some food or something.” She said, hoping that it could distract them or something. Max followed her wordlessly into the kitchen and looked at Connie expectantly, more like a child would look at their mother than a thirteen year old would look at an eleven year old. “Have we got pasta and flour?” Asked Connie, “We could make mac and cheese.” Max looked in the cupboard and nodded, while Connie searched in the fairly empty kitchen for cheese. They laid out the ingredients on the table and began to cook, well Connie began to cook and Max silently watched her from behind. 

When it was nearly ready, Billy drifted into the kitchen with a cigarette in his hand, 

“Dad says you shouldn’t smoke in the house.” Said Connie, staring at a cookbook and not looking up. 

“He’s not here though, asshole.” Billy replied with all the charm of a dung beetle. 

“He’ll smell it.” Connie added, then braced herself. Like predicted, Billy grabbed her arm tightly, 

“Do I give a fuck?” He hissed, leaning closer to Connie, “Do I give a fuck? Answer me.”

“No, Billy. Sorry.” Connie muttered, edging backwards towards the counter. She could feel the heat from the oven on the backs of her legs, seeping through her jeans and probably turning her pale skin red. 

“Good.” Billy gripped her arm tighter before letting go, allowing the blood to rush towards her hand again. As Billy walked out the kitchen, she could feel Max’s hand reach towards hers, but Connie jerked it away. 

“I’m fine.” She muttered before Max could even answer the question.

******************

Max felt her eyes widen as she stared at Connie. Blonde hair in two neat French braids down her back and a green sweater that matched her eyes, with Max’s old jeans on her legs. You could tell they were Max’s because both knees had rips in them, which had been patched and sewn up multiple times. Max almost felt bad that she’d ripped them, although at the time, she had no idea they would go to her younger step sister. 

As Connie took the mac and cheese out the oven, using a checked dish towel to stop her hands burning, Max stood uncomfortably behind her, neither of them daring to address the elephant in the room. They ate with awkward conversation about school - Connie was more enthusiastic than Max, and Hawkins, about which they were equally pessimistic.

Connie went to clean up, her movements almost robotic as she picked up Max’s plate, but Max silently took it from her and started to wash them. 

“When do you think they’ll get back?” Asked Connie in a quiet voice, Max glanced at her and didn’t answer. Connie continued, “Maybe they just forgot to lock the door, maybe Billy’s right.” 

“Maybe.” Said Max, trying to sound less skeptical than she was. “How about you pack your stuff for school tomorrow?” She suggested, her voice sounding enormously fake. 

“Yes Max.” Connie replied, barely more than a whisper, as she slipped out the kitchen. Neil had engrained respect into Billy and Connie, and tried to do the same with Max, but Max had to question whether Connie’s blind obedience was actually respect or just a way of getting by. 

She followed Connie into the bedroom, leaving the dishes beside the sink, and sat on the bed, 

“You don’t have to do as I say, you know?” 

“I know.” 

“Then why do you?” Questioned Max. Connie looked so helpless, barely four foot eight with large eyes and skin covered in bruises and scars. Max knew she looked equally as weak, her elbows were as sharp as Connie’s and she had the same sticking out ribs that she caught a glimpse of as Connie was changing. But she wanted so badly to help the girl, even if she drove her mad most of the time. 

Perhaps the best way Max could describe it was if there was a fire inside of you. Max’s burned and everytime Billy or Neil did something to her, it added more fuel. Connie’s however, had been smothered - like you put too many logs on it and the air couldn’t get in anymore. Max reckoned it was still there, smoldering away, sending off sparks every so often that came out as shouts or clever remarks or kicks in the shin. 

She met Connie’s eyes, feeling incredibly protective over the little shit. She supposed it must be even worse for her. The only family she had contact with was Billy and Neil. On top of that, she was stuck with Max’s pushover of a mom and Max herself, who even she had to admit was unreasonably difficult. Max wondered if Connie ever thought their new family was going to work out, if she was ever excited in the same way Max was. Maybe not, maybe it’s hard to think things will get better when your life has always been the same kind of shit. Once you know Neil, you tend to realise that nothing will change him into Mike Brady. 

As Max looked into Connie’s face, trying to understand her, they both heard the sound of a car pull up outside. Max felt the fire in her send off a million sparks, because she knew something had to be wrong. 

Without thinking, Max darted closer to Connie and sat beside her on the floor. She was near to hugging her when Connie stood up, 

“Let’s go check.” She said, in her authoritative eleven year old voice that Max obeyed instantly. They walked out, edging towards the front door. Billy glanced at them from his bedroom through the open door, shifting weights above his head and blaring music that Max didn’t enjoy in the slightest. She stopped in front of that door, frowning at Billy, 

“Turn it down.” 

“Fuck off.” He replied, slamming the door in her face. As that door shut, the other was opened by Connie, who looked back at Max with fear in her eyes, 

“Cops.” She said blankly, “Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Max, it's cops.” Max could hear the worry rise in her voice, “Hide, we need to hide.”

“Did he see you?”

“Probably.” 

“It’s okay.” Max assured her, “It’s fine, maybe he’s just checking in.” Connie darted into the kitchen, peaking out at Max from behind the wall, 

“Come on, hide.” Max followed her, leaning against the counter and steadying her breath. Cops made them all really uneasy. She could count the good experiences for all of them on one hand

*************

Connie felt the blood pound throughout her body as they waited for the knock. It came, after what seemed like an eternity, and Connie gripped Max’s arm.

“Don’t open it.” She whispered, “Don’t.” 

“Connie, it's the cops. You can’t ignore them.”

“Watch me.” Muttered Connie, her fingers digging further into Max’s arm. She realised this, and loosened them, “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Max said, moving closer to Connie. She was trembling, and it comforted Connie that even tough Max Mayfield was scared of cops.

The door knocked again, followed by Billy’s loud shout, 

“Answer it, shithead.” 

“It’s cops.” Replied Max, her voice shaking slightly. 

“Yeah it is, answer the door!” Called the voice from outside, “Otherwise I’ll break it down.” Connie glanced nervously at Max, then edged her way closer to the door. 

“What do you want?” She asked, feeling a shaking in her stomach and sounded much younger than she’d hoped.

“Just open the door, kid.” The voice had changed from aggressive to almost kind, and Connie unlatched the door, hands shaking as she reached for the door knob. She opened it to reveal a man with a brown beard, a thick mustache and hair covered by a comical looking tan hat, all tinged yellow from the porch light. 

“Hello.” She muttered, feeling very small compared to him.

“Hello.” He replied, “Are there any adults with you?” 

“My brother Billy.” She lied, Billy was only seventeen, but this man didn’t need to know that yet. She’d spoken to enough social workers to know that lies can save you a great deal of trouble. 

“Can I speak to him please?” Asked the man, removing his hat and stepping inside uninvited. He glanced around at the boxes, “You’re new in town, right?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“When d’you move in?”

“Saturday, sir.” 

“You in school today?”

“No sir. We start tomorrow.” 

“Can you give me your age and grade?”

“Eleven years old and the seventh grade, sir.” The man smiled at her, 

“You skipped a grade?” She nodded, “Must be a clever one.”

“Something like that, sir.” She moved her eyes away from him as Billy walked into the living room, shirt off and covered in sweat. 

“May I ask what you’re doing bothering my little sister at night, sir?” He asked, his tone polite for anyone who didn’t know him. 

“You may, your father’s car was found with him passed out inside.” 

“Anything else to report, sir?” Billy said, each word slow and calculated, “Because last time I checked that’s not uncommon for any man.” 

“Just checking you were all alright.” The man said. He went to place a hand on Connie’s shoulder, but she jumped away and Billy’s eyes landed on the man. 

“Don’t touch my sister.” 

From the corner of the room, Max looked at them with wide eyes, 

“Was my mom with him? Her name’s Susan Hargrove.” 

“No, I’m afraid not kid.” The man said with curious eyes, “Is she missing?” 

“Probably went out to the store.” Billy jumped in quickly, “Nothing to worry about sir.”

“Alright.” The man said, clearly not believing him, “If she’s not back by morning, call the police station on this number.” He ripped a page out his notepad and scribbled the number down on it, “Ask for Chief Hopper, that’s me.” 

“Thank you sir, will do.” Said Billy, forcing his friendlist smile as Hopper left the house. “Connie grab that number, hide it and never fucking call it, alright? Then you and Max get your asses in bed.” 

“What? Billy, it’s only nine.” Max pointed out, with a slight whine to her voice.

“Do I give a fuck? No. Get yourselves in bed.” He commanded. Connie started walking to their bedroom, but Max stood resolute, 

“No.” She said, her eyes defiant. Billy took a step towards her, and Connie noticed Max hide a flich, 

“Tell you what, you little cunt, you can get yourself into bed or out of this fucking house, do you understand?” He hissed, spitting on her. Max nodded, a look of bravery Connie could never muster appeared on her face. She stalked into the bedroom, grabbed a jacket and her skateboard then left into the darkness of the night. 

Billy wandered idly back into his room after watching her leave, and Connie followed him. 

“Billy.” She said purposefully.

“What?” 

“You can’t let her leave, not when we don’t even know the town.”

“Hawkins is safer than San Diego.” Grunted Billy, and Connie stepped towards the door as his eyes darted to her, “You’re not going anywhere.” 

“She can and I can’t?” 

“Precisely.” He said, lifting a weight above his head, “Now go to bed.” 

“Billy-” She began.

“Bed, Connie, now!” Billy ordered, raising his voice and his face turning red. Connie nodded, walking slowly out of his room as if she didn’t want to startle him. 

Fuck Max. She thought, sitting down on the bed. Fuck Max, fuck Billy, fuck Dad, fuck all of them. She pounded the pillow a few times, then the wall which made her knuckles sting. Lying down, she let out a string of curse words in her head, most directed at her new family and the shithole they were stuck in. 

All Max’s fault. If she hadn’t ratted on Billy, if she hadn’t made such a big deal about a stupid black eye and if she’d kept her mouth shut when Dad beat her for it, they’d still be in California - where Connie could disappear into the streets and be unnoticed for hours, instead of fucking Hawkins where police officers visit your house for no reason at all. 

Connie stared up at the slightly dented, slightly unclean ceiling above her. Billy’s music was screaming through the house, so loud that she could feel everything move with its pulses. Her head cried out in pain, maybe from the noise or maybe from the fact that everything was so shit. She pulled herself out of bed and changed into pajamas, realising that she had nothing better to do than sleep. In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth, splashed her face with water and glanced at the cabinet. Opening it, she grabbed two pill bottles, aspirin and Susan’s sleeping pills. She quickly swallowed six aspirin, not even bothering to glance at the dosage, and followed it up with four sleeping pills. 

Back in her bedroom, she lay onto the bed and waited to be dragged into a deep sleep. As the world turned dark and quiet around her, she managed to push Billy, Dad, Max, Susan and fucking Hawkins out of her mind, letting herself lie calmly and forget.

*****************

Max could barely see the road, with the only light coming from the cracks in the clouds and the odd on porch light. It wasn’t until she reached downtown Hawkins that she actually looked up though, when a car nearly crashed into her from behind, blinding her with it’s lights as she turned around. 

“Hey, kid!” The driver called, “Hey kid, wait up!” Max didn’t listen, glancing back at the boy who was no more than a high scholar, and skating off. He followed her, like some kind of pervert, until Max darted down an alley. It led to a dead end, and she found herself trapped and hoping he didn’t come after her. “Hey kid, hey!” He sounded almost friendly, it was odd, “Hey, let me take you home.” 

“No thank you.” Grunted Max, letting her red hair fall in front of her face. 

“Hey, it’s ok. You’re what, thirteen? It’s cold, let me take you home.”

“It’s really okay, I don’t need a ride.” 

“Hey, I’m not creepy or anything.” The boy said, stepping closer to Max, “Just your friendly, neighbourhood helper.” 

“Great, I don’t need your help.” Max said resolutely, “Really, I’m fine. It’s not even that cold.” She was freezing under her jacket, and could practically feel the tan she’d had her whole life fading, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“Alright kid, you do you.” Sighed the boy, “I’m Steve, by the way, if you ever need help or something.” 

“I’m good, thanks.” Muttered Max, pushing past him and skating off back into the street.

Why did everyone in this town feel the need to help them? Anyway, she didn’t want to go home, she wanted to find her mom or find something to distract her. As she skated, she noticed neon lights glowing from one end of the street. It was the arcade she’d visited yesterday and crushed most of the top scores. Looking in her pocket, she found a few quarters and decided that at least people wouldn’t bother her in there. 

She made her way to the Dig Dug machine. It was quiet, and the attendant warned her that it would close soon, because apparently in Hawkins the world shuts off at ten o’clock. She blew through her quarters before it closed anyway, her mind barely focusing on the game. Perhaps she should go home, perhaps she should hitch a ride and get the fuck out of that town. Maybe not, she couldn’t leave Connie all alone in that house. Perhaps she should look for her mom, although she didn’t know the town, didn’t know where she could be and it was too dark to do anything useful. 

Unable to keep the scowl of her face, she left the arcade and skated home. Everything was quiet, peaceful, as she entered the house. Stepping further in, Billy’s door was open and he was passed out on his bed, surrounded by beer cans. She shut the door, not exactly wanting to see his bare chest and dead looking face. The light was off in her room, with Connie curled up on one side of the bed. Max changed and slipped into bed beside her, carefully not to wake the girl who seemed so intensely vulnerable beside her. 

  
  



End file.
